The Lady from Spain by Gail Eastwood

Author:Gail Eastwood
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: regency romance, english historical, romantic adventure, english history adventure, romance 1800s, english adventure romance, love adventure, british adventure, english historical romantic, british historical
Publisher: Gail Eastwood

Chapter Twelve

Falcon opened her eyes in surprise when she heard the baron’s Spanish endearment, and at that precise moment he kissed her. He had slipped his arms around her waist and as he touched her lips gently with his own, he pulled her firmly against his body. Hard and soft at once—the erotic and unexpected combination triggered an onslaught of answering sensations rippling through Falcon’s own body, overwhelming her judgment. As the man’s lips moved on hers, gently nudging, exploring, she could not maintain her rigid posture but melted against him.

“Papa?”

The voice in the passageway outside struck them like a dousing of ice water. Lord Danebridge almost leaped away in his haste to have half a room between them by the time Tobey reached the doorway.

“Papa, you said you would only be a minute. I came to find you.” Tobey looked from one to the other of them, clearly seeking some explanation.

“It turned out that the señora and I had, uh, a bit more business to discuss than we thought,” the baron said, recovering himself first. “We are nearly finished. Run along back to grandmama in the other room, and we will be right along. Truly.”

Falcon felt as if his kiss had drugged her. She struggled to gather her wits. “I believe we are finished,” she said firmly as soon as the boy had left.

“Pity. That felt like the beginning of something extraordinarily nice.”

Nice? Was that what he thought? What had happened just then? He could not have meant to seduce her—not in an open room with his family and her maid two rooms away. What had he thought he was doing, then? His behavior had shocked her less than it left her puzzled and annoyed. What had truly shocked her was her own physical response.

“Lady Danebridge is right, you are foxed.” She had tasted the wine on his lips, but she was not about to admit that she had found it seductive.

“Are you all right? Should I apologize?” He looked like a little boy himself at that moment, pretending to be contrite.

She put her hands over her ears in exasperation. “You should just stop saying anything! An insincere apology would be no better than none. Just go and deal with your family. I will collect Benita and show myself out.”

“Very well,” he said, bowing without ever taking his gaze from her. “I shall obey. But I must remind you that we are engaged for the Giddings’ dinner tomorrow night.”

“You may be engaged for dinner. What makes you think I will attend?”

“I believe you could not stand to be thought a coward.” He grinned like a devil.

The worst of it was, he was right. For that reason, she would go, despite her meager wardrobe and missing trunk.

“In the meantime, I shall endeavor to put together some sort of letter for you, but I must say I cannot yet speak for your ability to teach languages.”

She debated throwing something at him. “Sir, it appears to me that you already know far more than is good for you.

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